A Love that Never was
by Princeps Civitatis
Summary: When his king discovered the betrayal, all Lancelot desired was punishment. However, since Lancelot did not face any punishment, his guilt and sin remained with him, forever. Saber-class servant Lancelot Du Lac was summoned to Chaldea, and soon he had to confront the shadows of his past life. From his own madness to the ghost of his beloved King, he had to face them all.


**First time writing fics for the Fate fandom. I've always felt that genderflipping King Arthur without putting a twist on the story of Lancelot and Guinevere's cheating to be a missed opportunity. So I took matter into my own hands and wrote this story, my own interpretation of Artoria and Lancelot's characters, their legends, and their relationship.**

 **Nasu-verse mechanics is a complicated mess, so I took a few liberties with it, but it is nothing major.**

 **Enjoy.**

* * *

The summoning circle glowed with three delightful blue stripes, signifying the impending arrival of a servant.

"Let's hope this will not become NP32 Lu Bu." Master said dryly upon seeing the stripes.

Mash, who was always with master at the summoning ritual, simply passed a knowing glance.

The stripes faded, and the two gasped in awe at the new servant standing before them.

"Servant, Saber. Lancelot, have answered your summons. If only for a short while, I shall offer my blade to you."

Lancelot Du Lac observed his surroundings. He found himself in a small, dusty room with two teenage girls standing before him.

"I am your master," stepped forward the orange-haired girl with a side-tail, she raised her hand to show him the command spells on her hand, "do you have a machine gun?"

"What is a machine gun?"

"How disappointing!"

"I beg your pardon?"

Master burst out laughing, "Forgive me, Lancelot. It was a joke, you will understand what I mean sooner or later. For now Mash and I will show you around Chaldea."

Lancelot could only eye a confused stare at the back of his master who led the way.

"Thank you for answering my summoning Lancelot, the greatest swordsman of the Round Table. My name is Ritsuka, and she is Mash. Let me tell you more about Chaldea…"

Lancelot followed as he continued observing. The corridor they walked along was brightly lit, but the dust and dirt indicated it was not cleaned often. His master fired one joke after another in her introduction, he figured that was simply her character and continued listening silently. Although he had to admit he was annoyed the 'machine gun' joke was never explained.

"…one quirk about Chaldea's summoning system is that when in Chaldea servants are given real bodies of flesh and blood. You cannot go into spirit form, and you need to eat, sleep and relieve yourself. If you get injured in Chaldea, you will bleed. But don't worry if you get hurt, we have an excellent medical staff led by none other than the Angel of Crimea, Florence Nightingale…"

For Lancelot, another curiosity was the short servant beside him called 'Mash'. One glance at Mash and Lancelot realised the true name of the heroic spirit powering her.

"…speaking of which this corridor we are walking in is the sole route between the summoning chamber and the main parts of Chaldea. As you have probably realised we don't visit this place often so it is a little on the dirtier side, but once in a while one of our Berserkers would wander here...they are just peaceful fellows who enjoy the quietness of an empty corridor…"

Lancelot also noticed 'Mash' sneaking glances at him. So far she had not spoken and only the master was talking away about Chaldea. Lancelot could not help but wonder what was going through Mash's mind.

" _I wonder if other Knights of the Round Table are here…how am I going to face Gawain or his siblings…what is she is here too?"_

Speak of the devil and he doth appear, no sooner than Lancelot had thought about _her_ … _she_ appeared right in front of him.

Lancelot froze, and then gaped.

" _What is my king wearing?"_

His King, Artoria Pendragon, had appeared before him. Except she was wearing a baseball cap, blue sports jacket, blue scarf, and a ridiculously skimpy tennis short and her hair was fashioned in a ponytail.

Mysterious Heroine X crossed path with the trio. Her eyes briefly widened, whether it had widened in recognition or not Lancelot was not sure.

"Master," the Assassin pointed a finger at the said mage, "why do you bring another Saber here!? You have me!" She whined indignantly.

"He is a blessing from RNGesus!" Master exclaimed as her hands clasped together to form a prayer.

MHX rolled her eyes.

"Master, who is this woman?" Lancelot demanded.

"Sir Lance—Saber! Prepare yourself!" MHX growled as twin blades materialised in her hands and glowered.

" _What the…these look like the swords of King Arthur!?"_

His master suddenly groaned and clutched her stomach, "Sorry, Lancelot, nature's call. MHX here wants to kill all other Sabers! Just Kidding! Seriously, treat it as an impromptu spar and you'll be fine. I'll leave them in your care."

The master sprinted away, leaving Lancelot behind with Mash and MHX.

Lancelot eyed Mash in bewilderment, whose eyes suddenly narrowed into dangerous slits—

"Well, I'm leaving too. With Senpai gone, I have no other reason to stay with you." Mash said in an icily cold voice as she began to walk away.

"Wait please help me! She looks more like she is here for a fight than a spar! I don't know how to handle this fight alone without getting both of us seriously hurt!"

Mash gave him a disgusted look, "so much for being the greatest swordsman of the Table."

"Why are you so unkind to me!?" Lancelot cried in exasperation.

"One look and I know I dislike you. Bye bye."

The words were like a blade straight to Lancelot's heart.

" _Galahad…you…"_

"Sir Lance—I mean Saber! Still womanising in the afterlife!? Look at me! Here I come!" MHX charged towards Lancelot.

"You are totally King Arthur, are you not!? What has driven you to such madness? Is it because of the sins I have committed against your Kingdom? If so I shall offer my servant life as recompense!" Lancelot declared as he dropped his sword.

" _Ye gods, why do you hate me so! To throw shadows of my past life at me as soon as I am summoned…"_

MHX froze in her tracks, her face twitched briefly before she let out a fearsome war cry, "I am Mysterious Heroine X. I am the Saber to end all Sabers! I am NOT King Arthur, for she is my first victim!"

But Lancelot struck first as soon as she finished her sentence. With a blinding flash, the peak of MHX's baseball cap went flying together with her ahoge. Lancelot struck again, twice, first left and then right, using the flat of his blade to knock the swords out of MHX's hands. The swords landed with a metallic 'clang', and MHX fell on the floor in a sitting position and clutched her hands in pain.

"My king, you never duel-wielded in life…so why now?"

MHX glared at him as tears threatened to flow out of her eyes, her peak-less hat fell off.

She looked exactly as Lancelot had remembered, although she sported a pony-tail instead of a complicated bun (which Lancelot recalled needed about 20 minutes to be fashioned by the King's personal servants every day in the morning. He had once questioned the King, back when no one knew the King's real gender, why he would resort to maintain such a complicated hairstyle. The King simply joked that he would look too much like a woman without his bun).

" _It wasn't a joke after all…"_ Lancelot thought with a bittersweet smile.

Lancelot studied her briefly, he looked at her golden hair, her shining emerald eyes, her youthful countenance, her petite figure and snow-white thighs that could inspire lust.

MHX was beautiful just like his king, although nowhere as regal considering the way she sat on the floor, the way she tried to dull the pain in her hands by inelegantly blowing on it and the tears that threatened to leave her eyes. She seemed to have noticed Lancelot checking her thighs, and a faint blush crept up her face as her hands moved to cover them.

" _Fool, there is no way this weird girl is King Arthur. You are the one going mad over your guilt. You don't deserve to see her after what you've done."_

Lancelot kneeled on the ground and took the strange girl's hands. "Milady, I apologise for my ungentlemanly behaviour just now and for insisting that you are King Arthur, which you clearly are not. Let us head to the Medical Bay, and look for this Miss Nightingale…whoever she is. Seeing as I just arrived, could you show me the way? I shall accompany you and protect you."

MHX simply looked at Lancelot with an unreadable expression, and then suddenly she swatted his hands away. She quickly stood up and bolted away, hat-less, as one drop of tear flew out of her eyes.

"Wait—"

As MHX ran, a figure turned in the corridor that Lancelot and MHX were on. MHX bumped into the figure and fell backwards on the floor.

Lancelot studied the figure, intrigued. A blackened figure clad in what appeared to be a knight's armour. There was an ominous black aura that covered the figure from head to toe, making identification impossible.

"Ouch, that hurts. Watch where you are going dumbass, are you another Saber-class Servant? Ha, no way, no Saber is as ugly as you!" MHX sat up and exclaimed.

" _Yup, she is definitely not King Arthur—"_

"Arrrrrrthuuuuuuurrrrrrrr!" the black knight howled in a deep, ragged voice. Without warning, the black knight threw a left hook at MHX, which sent the little girl spinning in mid-air towards the wall.

* * *

Battlefields are grim. Lancelot had been to countless battlefields, and they all looked the same. Grey and bleak, the dirt and corpses blended into an ugly landscape. The sounds of polearms and swords clashing, wounded soldiers groaning, and the desperate cries of rallies—the cacophony of war. The sounds and the sights melted together, and the product was a distillation of despair and suffering—the battlefield.

Lancelot despised the battlefields. The knights who fought in them all preached about honour and chivalry, and yet returned to their base nature upon realising their lives were truly at stake.

Yet Lancelot was always drawn to battlefields, in search of a legend. Britain's King of Knights. Rumoured to be a peerless warrior, Lancelot knew he had to see the king with his own eyes.

Were the stories of the king mere propaganda, a legend created to encourage ardent young men rush to their death on the battlefield? Or was the king the real deal, someone he could follow?

In one particular battlefield, he finally saw the man he searched so hard for. In the endless barren grey that was the battlefield, that man alone was coloured—a majestic blue.

* * *

Lancelot could only watch in stunned, jaw-dropping silence as MHX crashed into the wall so hard she was embedded in the wall while chunks of displaced wall flew everywhere.

" _I shall accompany you and protect you."_ The words he just spoke flashed in his mind, as he watched MHX's seemingly lifeless body peel off the wall—

" _I shall…protect you."_ The words resounded again as MHX's blood-soaked body flopped like a rag doll upon landing on the floor.

" _You have failed as a Knight again…"_

The black knight howled again, and walked towards MHX. A black blade materialised in his hands, he raised his blade and—

Lancelot blocked the downward strike, preventing MHX from getting stabbed.

"Fiend! Identify yourself! I am Lancelot Du Lac, Knight of the Lake. I shall punish you for this barbaric assault!"

The black knight, who previously only made indecipherable guttural groans, suddenly laughed. The black knight _laughed_ like a normal man instead of a Berserker under Mad Enhancement. However, it was not a happy laughter, it was a scornful one.

"I…aammm…youuuuuuuu…" The Berserker growled slowly, and for Berserkers who supposedly could only display rage, the sound came off as surprisingly sardonic. The black knight flipped the dark blade that locked with Saber Lancelot's silver blades. Saber Lancelot's eyes widened at the sight of the Fairies' letters inscribed on the black blade, the very same set of letters on his own blade. The black blade was Arondight without a shadow of doubt, which meant the mad dark knight he was fighting was himself.

Lancelot Du Lac screamed silently as his crazed opponent stepped back for striking space.

* * *

The sight of a young boy riding on his horse, gallantly swinging his swords at the hordes of invading barbarians left a profound impression on Lancelot. Despite the heavy casualties the King's men suffered, their morale remained sky-high. It did not take long for Lancelot to know why—

The King of Knights was the real deal. He was the virtues of men given flesh—honourable, just, chivalrous and more.

Human beings may be base in their nature, but it is also in their nature to pursue the virtuous. Lancelot Du Lac was no different, and from that day onwards he served the King of Knights.

Lancelot had jumped into the fray, and showed off his immense prowess as a knight and a warrior. With his help the barbarians were repelled, and for his accomplishments he was granted the honour of speaking with the king as a friend and was invited to Camelot as a guest. It did not take long before the guest became a permanent member of the Round Table.

* * *

" _Curses, he can predict my every move and swing much faster and harder without any compromise in technique…I can only defend and retreat."_

His Berserker-self with enhanced parameters proved quite a handful for Saber Lancelot, and the Saber soon found himself driven to a corner. He glanced at the bloodied body of MHX lying close to him on the ground, and the image of the battlefield of Camlann—a field littered with corpses where he beloved King died alone, flashed before his mind.

" _Fuck you, Gawain…If only I was there the King might have lived…no, no, no, all these are my fault…my fault alone…"_

A punch to the liver reminded Lancelot he was in the middle of a battle. The force sent Saber flying into the hole MHX's body made earlier, he then dropped to the ground landing on top of the girl. With his head dizzy and his ears ringing violently, Saber Lancelot desperately looked for the blade which slipped out of his hand. The Berserker approached the fallen Saber—

Lancelot saw his silver, uncorrupted Adronight, and he willed his aching body to reach—

Only to see it being kicked away by his Berserker-self.

" _I will not die a failure!"_

"Diiiiieeeeeeeeee!" The corrupted blade fell—

"Right back at you my evil-self!" MHX's blue scarf glowed as Saber Lancelot grabbed it, his Knight of Owner Skill activating.

* * *

Lancelot grew to love his king very deeply, in fact, it was love at first sight—when Lancelot saw him (her) in his gown back at the Camelot castle. They conversed and clicked instantly.

" _How can there be one who seems to be on the exact same wavelength as I am!?"_ The Knight of the Lake wondered in amazement.

* * *

Saber yanked the scarf off MHX, wrapped the ends of the scarf around his fists, raised it and somehow managed to barely block the blackened Adronight with the scarf. Lancelot could see it, his Berserker-self flinched in shock. The scarf looked ready to snap into two halves from the force applied, but with quick and precise hands Saber wrapped the scarf around the blade of black Adronight. Before Berserker could react, Saber jumped up and kneed the black knight in the groin, at the same time yanking the scarf as hard as he could, successfully pulling black Adronight out of Berserker's hands.

Berserker staggered backwards, making confused guttural noises. Saber deftly spun the scarf and grabbed the black Adronight. Now Lancelot had an Adronight, while the other Lancelot had none.

* * *

Yet questions also nagged at the back of Lancelot's mind over the years of his service. The King was too feminine, way too feminine in appearance, yet others seemed to have dismissed the notion that the King could be anything but a weirdly-shaped young boy whose aging had stopped. He was also acutely, painfully, aware of his growing attraction for the King, and he had spent endless tormenting sleepless nights wondering if despite his womanising ways he was secretly a homosexual. Furthermore, the King was increasingly burdened and disconnected from the sentiments on the ground and the mood of the Table—until one day Sir Tristan cynically said "our King does not understand the hearts of men" and left the castle, that was how he 'found' Guinevere.

Lancelot leapt forward with a vicious thrust, ramming the black sword clean through…Lancelot.

The sword made a sickening, crunching sound as it went through flash and armour. Blood burst out of the wound and sprayed onto Saber Lancelot. His face and pristine silver armour now dirtied with his own blood. Saber cringed reflexively, knowing the man he stabbed was himself.

" _I can punish myself in such a bizarre manner…and yet my King would never punish me for my sins…how maddening. Perhaps it is only natural I ended up like him—"_

* * *

Lancelot and Guinevere bonded over their mutual great affection for the King and were looking for ways to lessen his burden. From Guinevere he learned the terrible secret: 'he' should have been 'she' all along, for their King was a woman. Guinevere was terribly lonely, and her body yearned for love, love which her 'husband' Artoria could not quite provide.

* * *

Lancelot watched as his Berserker counterpart reeled towards the opposite wall with the black Adronight jammed in his chest. The Berserker made a bizarre screeching noise, like a dying insect, as his mortally-wounded body hit the wall and slid down, leaving behind a messy trail of blood. An undignified death befitting for a disgraced man.

* * *

Before Lancelot knew it, his relationship with Guinevere entered the forbidden realm. Yet what haunted him the most was not the act of betrayal itself, but that even as he thrusted and pounded Guinevere on the bed all he could think of was his King. His mind would be filled with explicit imaginations of how Artoria's teenage body would look on the bed, how it would feel like to enter her tight, pristine canal and fondle her perky under-developed assets, and how her moan would sound like.

Lancelot knew he was committing an unforgivable sin. So when his king discovered the betrayal all Lancelot desired was punishment—

Only to found out he was effectively pardoned, he should have been hanged but was only excommunicated. Guinevere, unfortunately, was not so lucky.

When the guilty face justice, they are fairly punished for their crimes. Justice would purge the guilty of their sins.

However, since Lancelot did not face justice his guilt remained with him, forever, and it only intensified as he continued to lust after Artoria's body. There would be no salvation for a wretched philanderer like him.

It was enough to drive a man to madness.

The knight in shining armour underwent a metamorphosis. His armour and sword turned pitch black, with his face forever concealed to hide his shame. A lone wandering mad knight—a rabid dog who lost all purpose in life.

The madness twisted his great love for Artoria Pendragon into immense hatred and loathing.

* * *

"It is not every day you get to kill yourself and live…" Saber Lancelot muttered as he gasped for breath.

Lancelot turned towards MHX, who lay on the floor unmoving. The knight sighed and scooped her up like a baby, intending to find the medical bay. He studied her face again. Although it was caked with blood, her beauty shone through. He felt a sudden urge to hug her tight and never let go and ran his hands through her silky-smooth golden hair.

" _My king, you were always our guiding light. The radiance of Camelot. Your majestic beauty at times felt so overwhelming…was I Icarus who flew too close to the sun and fell from grace? No, I was something much worse, for Icarus did not take the sun with him as he fell…this is my fault…my fault…my fault…I deserve to be punished…"_

Suddenly, he heard a high-pitched, mechanical sound, as if a toy was wound-up to move. Lancelot turned to face the source of the noise—

His eyes widened in shock, his first instinct was to throw MHX's body as far away as possible, and then—

The machine gun roared to life, Berserker Lancelot Du Lac's noble phantasm M61 Vulcan.

Saber Lancelot's last vision in his brief life as a Chaldean servant was the sight of a girl who looked just like his king, laying on the ground far away from the firing zone of the machine gun—saved.

" _My king, have I fulfilled my duty?"_

Alas, if only he had remembered to check the pulse of the girl, Lancelot would have realised it had already stopped beating.

Hundreds of thousands of magically-enhanced 20x102mm bullets ripped through the shining armour of Saber-class servant, Lancelot Du Lac. The machine gun fired and fired, until Lancelot's head, arms and legs were torn off and shredded and his body riddled with holes everywhere. Finally, the machine gun stopped, and landed on the floor with a thud.

Berserker-class servant, Lancelot Du Lac, expired for real.

* * *

There was once a strong Saber-class servant in Chaldea, her name was Artoria Pendragon, the King of Knights. However, there was another strong servant that could not get along with her under any conditions. That servant was Lancelot Du Lac, Berserker-class, who would attack her on sight in Chaldea due to his Mad Enhancement. Out of love for her knight…and perhaps out of self-loathing for how she had driven him to such madness, Artoria Pendragon sacrificed herself.

"If Sir Lancelot is here, then I shall no longer desire to continue to be Artoria Pendragon."

In the ashes of her sacrifice a new servant was born—Mysterious Heroine X, an Assassin that duel-wielded Excaliburs, even though she absolutely sucked at duel-wielding. Artoria had refashioned her blue battle-gown into a modern sports attire that retained the combat abilities of the original. Mysterious Heroine X was cheerful, bubbly and outgoing, she joked a lot and sometimes traded friendly insults with other servants of Chaldea. It was an attempt to understand the hearts of men, which another knight of hers claimed she had failed to understand.

MHX would claim that she was the Saber to end all Sabers, and that her first victim was Artoria Pendragon. It was a mask Artoria Pendragon only wore to protect herself, but soon her face grew to fit the mask. She would launch sneak attacks on other Sabers of Chaldea, although in reality these sneak attacks are really just impromptu spars…perhaps she missed being a Saber and was jealous of them, but she had steeled herself into the decision that she would never become one again, all for the sake of her knight.

In donning a hat, somehow Berserker Lancelot no longer recognised her as Artoria Pendragon. They could finally fight together on the battlefield, with surprisingly good synergy…as if they had known each other intimately in their previous life, which they did.

Then one day, MHX received the news from her master that they were going to try summoning Lancelot as a Saber-class servant. She was so happy, but she was not sure how to face him. If a Lancelot driven to madness wanted her life…how would this Lancelot react to her? She decided to remain as MHX, even if only for the moment, but she knew she had to see him.

" _I wonder if he will recognise me when he sees me dressed like this?"_

If Lancelot Saber had recognised her, then she would…

* * *

"So you are the Knight of the Lake, Lancelot Du Lac?"

The knight nodded with a smile. Artoria studied the curious Frenchman before her; he was young and handsome, but his swordsmanship was even more beautiful—in fact she believed in terms of swordsmanship Lancelot was her superior. He left a very good impression on her, and so she let him stay at Camelot.

She would soon regret her decision. Lancelot was too handsome and his personality too charming for his own good, and she found herself smitten.

" _Ye gods, why do you hate me so! To throw this handsome man in my way just as I fortified my heart and will to be the King of Britain?"_

But she never acted on her feelings for she was the King of Britain. She was the symbol of royalty, the paradigm of the ideal man, to have a relationship with one of her knights was taboo. Besides, she never believed Lancelot would feel the same way towards her. Why would a popular man like him be interested in a developmentally-stunted little girl pretending to be a man when countless grown women were practically throwing themselves at him?

Furthermore, besides the barrier of their social status there was another reason why they could never be together. Artoria was painfully reminded of it every time she went to the toilet. She was pseudo-male at the time, courtesy of Merlin's magic. Having no periods as a man was all well and good, but it was always uncomfortable knowing an organ that did not belong was attached to you…it just felt wrong. The organ was there so she could produce an heir with Guinevere, but the uncanny valley was too strong for Guinevere…not that Artoria blamed her.

" _My body looks disgusting, I will never want Sir Lancelot to see me like this…"_

Artoria Pendragon wished that if she ever get a second life, she could simply be the cute girl that she wanted to be deep down in her heart.

To prevent her feelings for Lancelot blossoming into something more troublesome, and to distract herself from the strained physical relationship with Guinevere, she buried herself in work. However, that only pushed the people she loved further away.

When she learned about Sir Lancelot's relationship with Guinevere, she was deeply hurt. She shut herself in her private room and cried for hours. Although she maintained the stoic façade of the ideal King in public, in private she had lost count of the number of times she cried in her room alone—it was not a side of her she was willing to show to even Guinevere.

She decided to forgive Lancelot. She loved him too much to ever condemn him to death. Little did she know this act of mercy would spell the doom of Camelot.

* * *

When summoned heroic spirits die, they fade from existence. After all, they are merely copies summoned from the thrones of heroes. Whatever life experience and revelations the copies learned, they would not be duplicated for the original copy still sitting in the throne. With the incineration of humanity, Chaldea became the only agent capable of summoning servants in the real, actual world. Chaldea decided to never summon Lancelot Du Lac again, either as a Berserker or as a Saber, in light of the bloody tragedy that happened outside the summoning chamber.

Artoria Pendragon, in her attempt to become another entity Mysterious Heroine X, had irreversibly altered (damaged) her Saint Graph. However, since as Mysterious Heroine X she did not perform any feats worthy to be recorded as a Hero in the Thrones, it was impossible for Chaldea to re-summon her as either 'Artoria Pendragon' or 'Mysterious Heroine X'. Effectively, the individual behind 'Artoria Pendragon' and 'Mysterious Heroine X' was forever lost to history with her death in Chaldea.

The two, who fell in love with each other at first sight but never acted on it, shall never meet again.

* * *

 **In case it is not clear enough, Berserker Lancelot attacked MHX bcause at that point she lost her hat and Berserker recognised her as Arthur. Of course, she lost her hat because of Saber Lancelot's fault! Also, Saber Lancelot was summoned in his second/thrid ascension form, where his armour and blade are silver.**

 **There goes my poor tribute to Urobutcher...Fate Zero is my favourite installment in the Fate series simply because of how dark and sombre it is. All installments are quite enjoyable, even Apocrypha, but Zero will always have a special place in my heart. I was initially uncertain how to develop this story, but halfway through I decided to kill off the main characters and let it end in tragedy.**

 **On a unrelated note, in FGO Saber Lancelot is a complete crit-beast. I have always imagined Saber to be his strongest class.**

 **Anyway do let me know your thoughts reading this story! Thank you.**

 **Edit: Fixed some grammar mistakes, I make too many of them...**


End file.
